Sasuke Never Says Much
by Asty
Summary: Everyone has different ways of caring. First person Naruto pov. NarutoxSasuke friendship.


**Title:** Sasuke Never Says Much  
**Genre:** General  
**Rating:** PG-13 for language  
**Pairing:** NaruxSasu friendship  
**Summary:** Everyone has different ways of caring. First person Naruto pov.

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Sasuke never says much. I wonder about this sometimes, though I'd never admit it to anyone. For a guy that's seen and done so many things and been to all the places we've been to, how can he not have a lot to talk about? Everyone who knows me knows I can't stay quiet for the life of me; filling silences has become my self appointed duty in life. It's much better than suffering the silence. Maybe it's Sasuke's fault after all and I've just gotten into the habit of talking a lot more when he's around, to fill in all those gaps when he should have said something. I never question whether he's listening – it's a shinobi's job to be able to hear, see, smell, taste, and sense everything around them at all times – but I've begun to wonder if he cares that I bother trying.

I've always cared, I can't help it. My earliest memories are of crying behind the playground at the Academy because I cared too much; cared about what the other children thought of me, cared about why they never played with me, cared about how I could get through to them and show them that I wasn't who they thought I was. It was years before I finally learned why so many of them called me the names they did, what kind of prejudices had been passed down through their parents. It was painful at the time; it still is when I bother to take the time and think about it, but the point of it all was, I cared. I still do. I care about Konoha, Iruka-sensei, Sakura-chan, Kakashi-sensei, I even care about the perverted hermit and that bossy baa-chan. They're all pieces of my life, parts that make up my soul, lives that I've chosen to look out for – to protect with every fiber of my being and strive to keep safe. They're all elements of the things which I know with a certainty I'll never really have, Konoha's unconditional acceptance, Iruka-sensei as a real father, Sakura-chan's devotion, and Kakashi-sensei's unwavering attention. That dose of reality sorta ruins the whole selfless outlook I would prefer to have resting on my conscious, but I've always hated lying to myself.

Honesty forces me to admit that I protect these people and this town because caring is a friendlier emotion than hating, which is something ugly that I faced first hand growing up. I had a choice as a child, those times when I was face down in the dirt after being tripped, by yet another foot stuck out in my path, of whether or not I'd take the road of hatred. In the end, I chose to care; I saw what hate did to the kids around me, to the parents that either ignored my existence or hissed things at me under their breath when they knew I was still in ear shot. I saw hatred through the eyes of a kid that had been living alone for as long as I could remember, and I saw how wrong and stupid it was. It was an innocent belief and was probably the reason that spawned my conviction to become Hokage. If hating and being hated was a stupid thing, then I would become stronger: the most powerful ninja of all. I would force the village to acknowledge me as something other than a person to be hated. It was easy to choose to care over hating people unreasonably, but that never stopped me from looking wistfully on the things I didn't have. It still hasn't stopped me from doing it.

Oh yes, don't tell anyone I said this, but the great Uzumaki Naruto is not immune to the green eyed monster: jealousy. I cared so much about wanting to be acknowledged that I took to watching other children and families to discover the secret of acceptance. Being envious and jealous of the lives they took for granted were the least of the confusing emotions I was forced to confront as a kid; one who should've been more concerned over getting to class on time than wondering why he was alone in the world. I cared so much about being noticed that I played pranks on all the willing victims I could find. Even old man Hokage was unable to remain immune to some of my more famous pranks. It's true, I swear it. I've got no reason to lie, though I probably tell stories about those pranks with a little more enthusiasm than with any of the others. The bottom line is that not a single prank would have happened if I hadn't cared. None of them ever hurt anyone, which was easy enough to see, so it always made me wonder why the teachers and parents took them so seriously. They were supposed to laugh and smile at my ingenious plots, or at the very least just use some term other than 'monster' when they talked loud enough for me to hear. I did it all because I just cared too damn much about what they thought of me.

Then there's Uchiha Sasuke, a name that makes me question my sanity sometimes. On the one hand I look almost normal next to him (minus the demonic possession and kitsune whiskers of course) because man, does he have issues. I heard this phrase once, 'Ice for blood,' and it's gotten permanently stuck in my head when it comes to describing this guy. He's a grade A prick, doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself, loves to constantly prove how much better he is at everything, and has every girl in the village tripping over themselves to hear him snort in their direction. I've come a lot closer to hating Sasuke than anything else in my life, and that's more credit due to him than I'm ever willing to confess to. No one, reputedly, has ever managed to get under this Kyuubi inhabited skin, so like hell I'll confess to ever actually hating the guy. Because I don't, not now at least. It might have been close there for a bit, but it's not the case anymore. How that happened exactly is a bit of a mystery even to me. Though if I'm honest (damned honesty again) it's because beyond the whole Ice Princess act, I see a lot of things in Sasuke I've come to know all too well in me.

No one would think that the genius child of Konoha and the Academy's dead-last would have anything in common, but we do, even if I refused to admit it to myself for the longest time. It took awhile before I found out just how much of a shitty life Sasuke's had. Just because I've been alone my entire life doesn't mean I'd wish that on anyone else, even my rival. I might act like an ass sometimes, but it's all because I care, remember? Caring about myself and caring for those few important people around me eventually managed to somehow get Sasuke included in the mix. I think because I realized that if I'd picked a different path as a kid, I might have ended up just like him – closed to the world, cold, solitary, and master of the perfect Go-Fuck-Yourself facial expression. Thank goodness I didn't though, 'cause god knows we don't need two Sasukes running around this world – that's just asking for bad things, and crying children. See, I care about the well-being of innocent kids everywhere, too.

So toss together one prissy Uchiha, and one loudmouth (but compassionate) Uzumaki, and you have our current situation. A pair of rivals, strangely also friends, and hell if I know how it happened, but Sasuke's managed to elevate himself somewhere around the top of my caring list. During my saner moments, I try to look at it like a pet project that I'll move on from eventually (cause caring about Sasuke can get exhausting), but then I get these moments of insanity when I don't want the arrangement to change for anything. I mean: what the hell? It's not like I enjoy caring about the guy, or that I like all these new responsibilities that seem to come with friendship. I mean, I've never had a friend before and Sasuke is not the easiest guy to be friends with, let alone try to bother caring about.

With everyone and everything else I know, my caring comes in the form of protection – looking out for them, or helping them out with my skills and strength, or brashly jumping in the way to take a hit or deal the final blow. I'm a loud guy, a man of action, of presence, and leaping head first into danger has never been much of an issue for me. Hell, I admit I like it. The thrill of battle, of seeing a surprised face, of seeing the inevitable smile afterwards, of hearing those precious words of, "Thank you," hit my ears. Thank you for caring, Naruto.

With Sasuke though, things are never so simple. The prick doesn't need my protection – no, he'd rather point out how often it's been he who's saved my ass the most in the past. When you compare the numbers side by side, even I have to admit (never out loud of course) that he's right. But when you put it in terms of effort, I'm pretty sure I've got the bastard beat hands down. He just doesn't exactly realize it. Because caring for Sasuke requires more than just leaping off waterfalls to catch him by the ankle, or nailing a giant bug with a kunai when his back is turned, or kicking the ass of a giant raccoon demon intent on leveling the forests around Konoha. I have to revert to my old childhood habits around Sasuke: watching, listening, observing, waiting to find that clue or crack in the armor to discover what makes the man underneath the pale shell tick. It's led me to some revealing insights and sometimes I get the funny impression that the girls would kill to know half the things I know about Sasuke now. Fat chance I'll ever admit that though, giving a damn about Sasuke is difficult and takes a lot of effort and hard work and that's nothing I'm willing to give up just because a pretty face might ask. It's strange, looking back, that I haven't bothered with giving up on the whole thing yet. Maybe it's because he's my rival, the only one worthy of such a title, and therefore he deserves this attention from me. Or maybe I do it out of pure boredom – yeah, that could be a good explanation, boredom.

Still, whatever the reason, I do it every time I see him – excessively care for the cold-hearted bastard – which involves a lot of talking and bringing up the general kind of nonsense that spews forth as easily from my brain as breathing.

"Oi, Sasuke! Wait up jerk!" Sasuke would never voluntarily slow down for me, but he never speeds up either, like I've seen him do when the hoards of fan girls manage to track him down. But this is just another morning ritual, even though he's the one who came to my apartment first.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" I ask when I finally catch up to him, and though the question doesn't make it sound like I care, I do. Just in my own "special" way. My especially prepared for Sasuke way.

I'm willing to admit that perhaps I spend too much time caring about this guy.

He never answers my questions within the first five minutes of the conversation, so I settle in to start babbling. "I'm so tired, why'd ya come by and wake me up so early anyway, bastard? I was having this great dream too. I was finally Hokage, and I had the best office in the whole village, with this awesome view from real high up, like way higher than the tower really is, which was weird, but it was still great. And I was setting up traps around the windows to keep out the monkey people, cause I guess we were at war with them, they kept throwing banana peels at the town walls, but then I found this door I'd never seen before behind the desk, and it led to a secret room totally filled with ramen!"

Sasuke snorts beside me, and I secretly feel a little pleased that he's actually been paying attention the whole time.

"Shut up, it's not funny!" I insist adamantly. "You were in the dream too. I couldn't find any hot water, so I grabbed a bunch of cups and started running, trying to find the hot water. And then suddenly you showed up with a thermos, and said I had to fight you to get the hot water, so I did, and man did I kick your ass! No one comes between me and ramen! But I was just getting to the good part, right about to taste the yummy ramen, when your ugly face decided to wake me up. I think I'm scarred for life now; no one wants to see your pasty white face so early in the morning, it hurt my eyes permanently."

I whine for good measure and make a show of rubbing my abused eyes, which earns me a swift slap to the back of my head by previously mentioned pale boy.

"It was your idea to go train today, idiot."

I grumble good-naturedly, but the back of my head stings just a bit. He probably meant to hit me that hard, the bastard. "Yeah but not so damned early! And I only wanted to train 'cause I'm bored. I'm tired of sitting around; I need to be doing something! Baa-chan said that Shikamaru's already been gone a week on his mission. It's so unfair, I would have made him take me if I'd known it'd last that long, but he's a bastard and took Chouji with him instead. Hell, I'm the best damn ninja in this village. He's going to be begging for me to come with him next time when he realizes how much they needed me on this one, you'll see."

"You just got back from a mission three days ago, dobe."

"That's not the point!" I protest, a little embarrassed that Sasuke knew my schedule so well. "They're refusing to recognize my talents! I'm a valuable asset to this village; I should be out there every day, not waiting around here for the missions to come to me. It's an insult to my great ninja abilities that I'm forced to sit here and rot while everyone else is having all the fun out there."

Sasuke snorts again, but this time it sounds less amused and more reproachful. I hate it when I feel a bit of Sasuke-wisdom coming on. "Every ninja needs time to rest," he responds, all practicality.

I brush off the absolutely true statement and grin widely instead, because he hasn't bothered to refute my boastful statements of prowess and talent.

"Not me!" I puff out my chest and adopt my normal posture of both hands behind my head, the morning sun hitting my upturned cheeks. "It's not fair, even Kakashi-sensei's got missions. What kind of teacher is he when he keeps on neglecting his own students? The next time I see him I'm going to kick his ass and demand he take us with him on his next mission, like the time we went to the Wave Country. I won't let him hog all of those missions to himself, teachers are supposed to share with their pupils, not leave them to fend for themselves off stupid, lazy, weak perverts."

Sasuke doesn't reply for awhile, just continues to walk while I keep up step for step beside him. It wouldn't do to try and get ahead, because he'd just walk faster, which would make me walk faster too, until we'd both end up running across town. Trust me, it's happened before. Sometimes it's just smart to play along and let the frosty teen think he's leading the meandering stroll through the village.

"What about that hermit?" he points out, briefly stopping the next tirade of words I was ready to unleash into the silence.

"Working on another book," I growl. This has really been sitting sorely with me for the last two weeks. "He told me I could go with him to some new hot springs resort, but there's no way in hell I'd get any new training done if I did. All he'll do is it there with his face stuck in the bushes the whole damn time. He said he wouldn't teach me anything for a month if I kicked his ass every time and interrupted his 'information gathering' while I was there, so why the hell should I go? He can go write his damn books on his own, I'll just train here and do missions without the pervert and him spending all my hard earned cash. Dammit, he still owes me money, too!"

I stop and take a breath, which gives my stomach the opportunity to rumble into the midmorning quiet. Out of the corner I think I see Sasuke roll his eyes, but I can't be sure.

"I'm hungry! How about some ramen? Ne, ne Sasuke? Can we go get some ramen, please?"

It really isn't my fault that having a craving for ramen fills me with the urge to bounce.

He doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no, either. I take this as a good sign and continue bouncing my way in the direction of Ichiraku, not so completely intent on my future meal that I don't fail to notice how Sasuke follows my winding path, perhaps just a bit more willingly than usual. Maybe today he doesn't like the idea of there being silence as well. Who can really say?

I get my ramen, and he just nurses a cup of tea silently. I talk and laugh with the shop owner and his daughter. They indulge me and laugh at my jokes. I care about these people too; how could I not when they make the one meal which I would gladly die a thousand deaths just to taste again? They're nice too; nicer than I think anyone gives them credit for because they never turned a lonely little boy away from their shop when he was hungry and short just a few coins to get his favorite meal on a cold night. Even if they didn't recognize me as Naruto, as a human boy and a great future ninja, they did at least see an honest customer, and for that I've decided to be loyal to their shop for life. It's the least I can do to repay them for their kindness. My own special type of caring in this case and my way of saying "thank you" without actually saying it out loud. I've got my pride to keep intact, after all.

I eat two more bowls before I feel full enough to warrant some light training to work off the bulge around my middle, and the sun has finally worked itself to a noon-day peak in the sky. Once again, Sasuke and I head out to the forest side by side, me speaking into the quiet and he walking with his black eyes staring ahead and his hands in his pockets. When we arrive, both more than a little antsy to finally expend some of that pent-up teenage energy, we immediately begin to spar. First with taijutsu for two hours, which is really more like a test in speed, than who can land the most punches. We both know that neither of us will land a successful blow until we bring out the big guns later. When we're both warmed up enough we switch to attacking with chakra and seals, pushing ourselves to outmaneuver and trap the other, until the afternoon begins to wane and we finally notice that it's getting hard to see the daylight from within the forest depths.

When we leave, both dirty all over, me sporting a few new bruises, Sasuke walking with a slight limp in his left leg, the open sky is a lovely hue of bright pink and orange. There's a bloated setting sun whose color reminds me of the deep fiery red-orange fur of the Kyuubi that lives inside me. I'm still talking, loudly, mostly complaining about a few of the unfair tricks Sasuke pulled, because I'm determined to find out if there's a rule somewhere against using a clone transformed into an innocent white fluffy bunny to catch your opponent off guard. Sasuke knows how traumatized I've been ever since I nearly killed that bunny on the road years ago, and I consider it extremely unfair of him to use that tactic against me. I'll never look at a doe-eyed white bunny the same way again after this.

Sasuke makes a little sound every now and then during my one sided rants concerning his underhanded tactics (friends aren't supposed to use secret weakness against each other, I repeat over and over), though whether he's snorting at my stupidity or grunting because of the pain in his limp I'm not sure. We walk back into town and head to his apartment first because it's closer. I'm practically itching to remove my clothes and dive for the nearest shower, but that damned unshakable duty of caring prevents me from leaving the raven-haired boy's side, even when we finally approach the stairs that lead to his door.

He turns to look at me after setting foot on the first step, so I scowl back, still pretending to be upset about all the things I spent so long complaining about during the walk. Truthfully I'm watching him, watching his black eyes narrow at me in neither malice nor interest, simply doing exactly what I'm doing to him – watching.

"I'll get you next time," I growl. I've always secretly enjoyed the way the words sound in my throat when I do that. "You're gonna get your ass kicked so bad Sasuke, just wait and see!"

He smirks slightly at me, that damned knowing smirk that makes me wonder sometimes if he sees just as much about me as I do of him.

"Just try it, dobe. You'll never beat me."

"Like hell I won't! Tomorrow I want a rematch. My place, first thing, get ready to get your ass pounded into the dirt."

"If you don't sleep in again," he throws back, still smirking as he turns to ascend the stairs. He's taking them a bit slower than usual because of the limp. I grin at his backside, reminded of that sweet finishing move I got to pull off in the end. It's just a terrible shame that was the first and last time I could use the technique though. The bastard has a sharp memory much too beneficial for his own good. But he didn't say no to more training, and my heart is lightened considerably, though I know truthfully I'll still be a bit tender in the morning, even with the help of the Kyuubi's healing.

"Dobe," he says, as I'm turning to walk away. I look behind me and he's halfway up the stairs, looking down at me with his face half in shadow and half bathed in the red light of the setting sun. It's a little bit creepy, and not so hard to scowl back at him when he uses that name.

"Don't call me that! And what?"

His head tilts to the side, a dirt stain across his cheek coming into the light. "Today..." His lips quirk in an awkward frown, but I can see in his eyes the words that hover behind his pride and the barrier we keep up that labels us as rivals.

_Was fun,_ I finish for him in my head, but the inner voice sounds suspiciously like him. "Yeah," I agree, and I'm grinning again like nothing is different. Because it never is at the end of the day, even when we're both smelling like sweat and tree sap after liberally pounding the other into a sore pulp of bruises. He knows I know what he meant to say, but there's no need for words from him sometimes, and I've always understood that about Sasuke. Maybe I care too much, enough to strive to fill the silences and chase away the cobwebs of loss in those eyes the few ways I know how, the only ways I know that will get through to him. Companionship, however strange it might seem when all the talking and walking is just leading to us throwing punches at each other until the sun goes down. It's my own special way of caring for the moron.

Then, as I'm walking away towards my own apartment, I remember. I remember the slight look of relief I saw in his eyes when I told him to come back tomorrow, and how that pensive frown disappeared from his face when I agreed and grinned again like nothing was different. Even though Sasuke doesn't talk much, maybe he never really needs to. If anyone takes the time to look long enough, I think they'd all find that Sasuke's eyes say a lot more than any whole sentence out of him ever could. It helps me realize that we all have our own special ways of caring – sometimes through words, sometimes through action, and sometimes through simply listening. It makes me wonder if maybe his way of caring isn't all that much different from mine. I might never really know for sure, but somehow I can't see myself accepting it any other way.


End file.
